


Double Catch

by justanexercise



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Nikita/Marvel crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/pseuds/justanexercise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter, former Director of SHIELD doesn’t quite like retirement. Luckily for her, a covert agency needs to be reined in. It’s a shame the one person she thought she finally had a connection to is an agent to said agency.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Peggy Carter and retirement do not suit one another.

Which is why she’s over a thousand feet in the sky aboard a tiny quinjet along with her most efficient team.

“Target is an abandoned ship just off the coast between England and France.” Maria Hill points to the screen. “15 ex-Centipede soldiers, still believed to have retained their abilities, targeted the Royal Birkham Bank. But instead of stealing, they take all the people in the lobby as hostages. 75 minutes ago.”

Peggy, codename Miss Union Jack, puts a finger to her chin. “Hostages?”

Maria taps open a list of profiles. “Ten. Some with diplomatic ties, some regular citizens, but most with money.”

“Demands?”

“A million, each.”

“Assuming authorities don’t know they’re super soldiers?” Steve says, pointing his chin at the screen.

“That’s where you three come in.”

“Target patrons at a bank and transport them to an off-site ship?” Peggy says. “Don’t know if that’s brilliant or plain stupid.”

Maria shrugs. “I’d go with stupid.”

Looking at Maria, Natasha nods and asks, “MI5 taking credit for this one?”

“Closest agents nearby.”

“Explains Steve’s lack of patriotism,” Natasha grins.

“That’s hilarious,” Steve deadpans in his generic black field suit.

Peggy Carter, clasps her belt emblazoned with her symbol, navy blue in color this time, across her uniform. The Union Jack buckle being the only designation of her identity, much like Black Widow’s hour glass. It’s a far cry from her first costume, sorry, uniform as the designers would say, a gaudy Union Jack flag plastered across her entire torso. Tonight, Steve joins their covert style, a single silver star adorning his belt.

“Alright, I’ll sweep the deck from the right and locate the hostages. Steve sweep in from the left, secure the control room. Natasha kill the engine.”

“Coming up on the drop zone,” Maria notes.

Peggy hits the button to lower the ramp.

“How’s retirement?” Steve prods Peggy with his elbow.

“Just lovely Steve,” Peggy says with an eye roll. “So lovely that here I am, on a mission with you lot.”

“You did express your undying boredom,” Maria says.

She ties her hair back and slips on her helmet, plain black. “I’m not the only one, miss being out in the field then?”

“Making sure the mission goes according to plan,” Maria side eyes Natasha.

Natasha stills for a second, the parachute half on. “Hey, it’s not my fault Sitwell’s plans are complete shit.”

Steve nods in solidarity and clips on his helmet.

“10 seconds,” Maria notes the time.

“Good luck kiss,” Natasha says, already leaning into Maria’s space. They kiss lightly at first, until Natasha’s hands roam across Maria’s back.

“Oh for goodness sake, not in front of me,” Peggy groans. “Watch the hands.”

Natasha leans back and licks her lips. “They were above her waist.”

“Shut up,” Peggy says and shoves Natasha out of the quinjet.

“In her defense, they were,” Steve says. He puts his hands up in surrender at Peggy’s advance and jumps off the ramp on his own accord.

Maria crosses her arms over her chest, leveling a hard stare. “You didn’t have to push her.”

Peggy says over her shoulder as she leaps, “She had a parachute didn’t she?”

Only the slight ruffling of her parachute indicates her presence, an overly cautious Centipede soldier spots her, raising his gun only for her to kick him in the nose with her heavy boots. He lands on a heap as she releases the parachute. The dull thunk of metal on metal is the only sound Steve makes across the ship. Peggy hurries to catch up.

Coming up behind a rather skinny soldier, Peggy grasps his neck in a headlock, pulling him to the side as he loses consciousness. She spots the stairs and goes down. Peggy halts at a corner. Sniffling. Heavy boots. Just ahead then. Opening the tiny mirror from her belt, she counts four guarding the door.

“Widow, status,” Peggy whispers into the microphone in her glove.

No response, not verbally anyways, there’s thuds, groans, the occasion gun shot. Thirty seconds later, her comm crackles. “Engine room secured.”

“Captain?”

“Control room secured.”

“Hostages in cargo hold two. Concurrent strike, Captain go in through the windows, Widow the south side.”

Peggy checks once more with her mirror and slips it back into her belt.

“Widow in position,” Natasha says.

“In position,” Steve says a few seconds later.

“On my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark.”

She slides out, knocking the bulking soldier down with a kick to the knees and smashing his face with the heel of her boots. The remaining soldiers hold their guns up to shoot, but Peggy’s faster. She yanks her billy clubs from behind her back, bashing arms and sweeping legs out from under them; the omnium metal clubs cracking the inferior gun metal and shattering even super soldier bones. None of them even get their fingers on the trigger.

Peggy kicks open the door, knocking into a nervous soldier holding his rifle to Steve’s head. Steve takes the distraction and bashes his shield against his head.

“Thanks,” Steve says. He cuts the zip ties loose on the hostages legs and wrists.

“Quickly now,” Peggy says. She herds them out, Steve at the front and Peggy securing the rear.

The last hostage goes through the doors, Peggy puts her billy clubs back into her back holsters. The thud and crackling sound of electricity has Peggy spinning around, her Walther pistol leveling at Natasha.

“There you are,” Peggy says.

“Cleaning up after Steve’s mess,” Natasha says. She looks past Peggy for a moment and kicks a shard of glass to the open door, nailing the soldier in the chest. “And yours too.”

Peggy raises an eyebrow but does gratefully nod at Natasha.

“R&D is just itching to give you stun batons you know,” Natasha says, walking past Peggy.

“Yes well, tazing is more your thing,” Peggy follows Natasha.

She steps on something decidedly not glass. Peggy lifts her foot up and narrows her eyes. A USB drive, in an abandoned ship.

“Carter?” Natasha says just outside. “You coming or what?”

Peggy shakes her head and pockets the drive. Probably a hostage dropped it. Peggy’s lips thin to a line. Or maybe not.

The last of the hostages ride in the lifeboats over to waiting MI5 agents while the three of them wait for extraction at the top level of the ship. She rubs her shoulders and groans. Maybe she really is getting too old to be in the field.

“I need a massage.”

“You know, I think a girlfriend would be great.” Natasha winks “At relieving that stress.”

Peggy purses her lips. “Don’t be lewd.”

“Meant a massage.”

“No you didn’t.”

Steve raises his eyebrows under his helmet. “Is that what we’re calling it now, a massage?”

“Better than fondue,” Natasha ribs.

“Maybe Peggy can fondue with that guy down the hall, the one with the dog, what was his name again?”

Peggy very nearly stomps her foot on the ground like a petulant child. “Can we have at least one mission where you don’t try to find me a date?”

Natasha shrugs. “Probably not. Unless you can get one on your own.”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own thank you. I am quite content being single.” Peggy clenches her teeth just a bit. “And how is this all on me, last time it was about Steve. What happened to that waitress at the coffee shop?”

Steve leans back on his heels and sighs. “Got called out, she thought I stood her up.”

“What not even your puppy dog eyes helped?”

“It did the first two times.”

Peggy’s teasing smile drops. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but things will look up.”

“How about the girl across the hall, she seems kind of nice,” Natasha says.

“Oh look, Maria’s back.” Peggy says, doing a poor job of changing the subject. Maybe not so poor after all, Natasha’s whole face lights up at the mention of Maria and she’s the first one climbing the rope back up the quinjet. In fact, Peggy’s never seen Natasha go up that fast in all the years she’s worked with her.

-

Angela Martinelli.

Least that’s what it says on the mailbox and her letters. Actually it’s Alexandra Udinov but even the super-secret government sector, Division, she works for doesn’t know that little fact.

Alex taps the package on her countertop. She tucks it under her arm and waits by her door. Peering through the peephole down the hall, Alex sighs again. No one there. Just like yesterday, and the day before that. Resigning herself to yet another day, Alex sets the package back on the counter but snatches it back up at the sound of an opening door.

“Peggy?”

“Hello Angie,” Peggy says, halfway through her door and juggling a few bags.

“This came for you a couple days ago, just left it on your door and I didn’t want anyone to steal it so I just kept it and now, here.” Alex shifts her weight between her feet. Don’t look at her lips, don’t look – damn it she looked. Peggy’s wearing that type of bright red lipstick that’d been popular back in WWII but is now once again trendy. It certainly highlights her lips and it’s doing some serious damage to Alex’s concentration.

“That’s very kind of you,” Peggy says. She looks at the offered package and back to her own arms filled with bags. “I don’t seem to have enough hands to take it from you just yet.”

“Oh, wow sorry,” Alex thunks her head with the box. “Here, let me.” She takes a few bags despite Peggy’s half-hearted protests.

Wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans, Alex tucks them into her pockets. “Well uh, welcome back. Had a good trip?”

“You can say that.” Peggy leans on the counter. “It was nice to see my old friends but sometimes it’s just exhausting.”

“Right.”

The lull in conversation sends Alex into a nervous mess.

“Okay great, yea…so great to have you back. You must be really tired though, so I’ll just…” She points vaguely to Peggy’s door.

“Angie?” Peggy’s biting that full lip and Alex sways unsteadily on her feet. Luckily for her, Peggy’s too busy looking at the countertop to notice. “If you’d like, would you have dinner with me?” She points to the bags. “It’s just that Steve for some ungodly reason thinks I’m starving living alone. He’s baked me two pies, can you believe that? Two. I can hardly finish one on my own.” Peggy takes out the two pies, they’re enormous, half the size of Alex’s torso.

“Gee, how much does he normally cook for?” Alex helps Peggy unload the rest of the food.

“He eats a lot, fast metabolism.”

“He an athlete?”

Peggy pauses. “You could say that, he loves to exercise, says it gives him clarity. Can’t go a day without running or using the punching bags.”

“Is that lasagna?” Alex peels back the foil, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the smell. “Homemade lasagna?”

Peggy grins. “He even made the noodles himself.”

“Oh I have wine!”

“What type?”

“Uhh…alcoholic? Not sure, there’s a bunch though.” Alex tilts her head to the door. “Come on, you choose.”

“I’m not that well versed in wine either.”

“Better than me.”

Peggy examines the bottles, hmming at each. “Do you have any red?”

“Hold on, I think there’s more.” Alex opens the cabinet in her living room.

The home phone rings next to Peggy’s hand.

“Oh that’s probably the deliver guy, can you send him up?” Alex says loudly.

“You still want delivery food?” Peggy quips from the kitchen.

“Well I’m not a jerk so it can be lunch tomorrow.”

Peggy shakes her head. “Yes, just come on up I’ll ring you in.”

Alex brings back a bottle, triumphant smile in tow.

Peggy’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Oh my apologies, I thought you were the delivery person.”

She puts her hand on the mouthpiece and hands Alex the phone. “Do you know anyone who sounds like Batman?”

Alex grimaces.  “Oh yea, that’s … here.” She takes the phone and to her bedroom, lowering her voice. “Michael.”

“Did I call at a bad time?” he states more than asks.

“No, not at all.”

“Just letting you know the missions off, I’d tell you to relax but seems like you’re well on your way.”

“No no.” Alex runs a nervous hand through her hair. “We were just hanging out.”

“I understand, good bye Alex.”

Alex shuts her eyes. Double shit. She knocks the phone on her forehead.

“You alright?” Peggy asks, behind her.

“Yea sorry, just a bit stressed,” Alex explains. She puts on her best smile, taking a random bottle of wine.

“I can leave if that’s –“

“No,” Alex says, with a lot more force than either of them thought she would if Peggy’s stunned expression is an indication. “No, sorry, it’s fine. My boss is a jerk, but that lasagna and pie would cheer me up tons.”

“And the delivery?”

The phone in her hand rings again. Alex grins. “Right on time. Want to see which one would make us sick faster, Thai or Italian?”

“Maybe we should save the Thai for tomorrow,” Peggy says, smiling wryly.

“It’s a date English.”

Alex does not pump her fists up triumphantly at Peggy’s flushed cheeks. No she does not. She does bob her head in a job well done though, behind Peggy’s back of course.

-

“You were right,” Maria says, appearing next to Peggy.

Peggy sighs, pulling the steaming cup of Earl Grey she barely had a chance to enjoy away from her lips. The so called barista actually made it right this time. She continues walking down the street with Maria beside her.

“I usually am,” Peggy says. “What was on it?”

“Black ops missions, unsanctioned ones from the US government.”

“Unsanctioned?” Peggy frowns.

“One of the ops connects Senator Madeline Pierce to the assassination of the former President of Chile.”

“I knew that wasn’t an accident.”

Maria nods. “We all did, we just didn’t have proof.”

“What branch carried the attack?”

Peggy casts a worried glance at Maria’s lack of response. Maria’s jaw is clenched so tightly her muscle ticks.

“Maria, who did it?”

“We don’t know.”

“What?” Peggy’s steps grind to a stop.

Gently placing a hand on Peggy’s elbow, Maria tugs her along the street. “The information is on a need to know basis now.”

“And I need to know,” Peggy says through gritted teeth.

“You’re retired.” Maria licks her dry lips.

“There’s an unsanctioned black ops group carrying assassinations and God knows what else, apparently under US government officials.” Peggy clenches her fists. “And it was under my watch.”

“Peggy we don’t know how long they’ve been operating.”

“Chile was a year ago. No agency would have the bollocks to do it unless they were established and to have the secrecy?” Peggy’s vein pulses on her forehead. “No Commander Hill, I am taking point on this mission.”

”Yes ma’am.”

“Glad we understand each other.”

Maria nods. A tiny quirk at the corner of her lips doesn’t escape Peggy’s notice. Of course Maria would know Peggy had no intention of leaving this alone. “I’ll set up a briefing.”

“I trust your judgment, small circle I presume?”

“Of course.”

Peggy tosses her now cold tea into the trash and tucks her hands into her pockets. She raises an eyebrow at Maria, smiling smugly at her discomfort.

“How is Natasha?”

“We’re doing fine,” Maria says with an eye roll.

“Then you wouldn’t object to dinner?”

“You already gave her the shovel talk.”

“Ah yes.” Peggy’s whole face brightens. “Certainly nice to have the Black Widow shaking in her boots.”

“I’m capable of handling it on my own you know.”

“I believe that fully Maria, I did train you after all.”

Maria exhales deeply, running her fingers through her short hair. “Are you going to do this for Sharon too?”

“When it comes to it.”

Maria shakes her head. “And you, how’s that neighbor of yours?”

“We’re friendly, and don’t you have better things to do, like cleaning up Fury’s mess, than to monitor my retirement?”

“I multitask.”

Peggy’s amusement shows itself just for a second, with her eyebrows arching and her lips curling into a smile. They stop at the corner of a busy street, the black SUV ambling towards them in the midst of traffic. 

“I’ll see you later,” Peggy says, wrapping Maria in a hug.

-

“That the last one English?” Alex asks. She sets the table, leftover food crowding in the middle.

“Yes, should probably warm this up in the oven while we eat.”

Alex takes off the plastic wrap, putting it on a tray into the oven. “What kind of pie is it?”

“Rhubarb I think.” Peggy takes a seat in front of all the food. A corner of her mouth tilts up. “I think this eclectic lunch might just give us a stomachache.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Alex hands Peggy a cold beer. “Come on, indulging is the American tradition.”

Peggy looks doubtfully at the food. “Combining Thai food with pasta?”

“Look at it this way, whatever we don’t finish can be dinner.” She clinks her bottle with Peggy’s and drinks.

“Well that is laziness I can live with.” Peggy salutes with her beer.

 They turn to the door when two sharp knocks interrupts them. Alex frowns and sets her drink down.

“Please tell me you didn’t order more food,” Peggy says.

“I didn’t.”

Alex opens the door, her face dropping. “Michael.” She half steps out into the hallway, blocking her apartment with her body. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh I was in the neighborhood,” Michael says, peering around Alex.

“Is there an emergency?”

“No, just thought maybe we could go over some numbers.” Michael pushes past Alex, going straight to Peggy. “Won’t take very long.” He holds his hand out to Peggy. “I’m Michael, Angela’s co-worker.”

“Peggy,” she takes his hand, smiling politely.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” says Michael, more to Alex.

“Not at all, just lunch,” Alex replies through a forced smile.

“A lot of food for just two people.”

Alex leans on the table, creating a physical barrier between Michael and Peggy. “Not really.”

“Pasta looks good.” Michael takes a plate and seats himself at the head of the table. “You make this?”

“No,” Peggy says, clipped. “A friend did, just went a bit overzealous with the portions.”

Alex ducks her head to hide her smile from both Peggy and Michael. So Peggy’s picked up on the vibe, good, then maybe Michael can leave.

“So Peggy, what do you do for a living?”

Dropping onto the seat between them, Alex listens closely, Peggy’s been evasive with the details of her job.

“Event planning.”

Alex nods. That explains the traveling. Peggy would make a good event planner, she seems organized and great at structure.

“Event planning. Maybe you can organize one of our company parties.” he says, shoveling a forkful of pasta into his mouth. For a moment his face goes slack at the good food.

“What is your company? Angie doesn’t talk much about work.”

“I like to keep work life at work,” Alex rips apart the bread on her plate. “And not have it follow me home,” she mumbles.

Alex side eyes Michael while he smirks. That’s not good, not good at all.

“Well, our specialty is relationship marketing. We make memorable, personable experiences so our customers keep coming back for more.”

“What type of marketing is that?” Peggy asks.

“It’s a brand. Angela’s image is a key component of what we sell and it has to live up to the expectations of our clientele.”

Peggy’s brow furrows. “What do you sell?”

“The apartment, the clothes, the car,” Michael ignores her question. He twirls his fingers around the apartment. “All of this, paid for by the company.”

“That’s quite a bit of compensation, the apartments here are quite expensive.”

“Oh yea, it is. But Angela here needs to keep up her brand. Our brand. It’s tools of our trade.”

“Trade?” Peggy asks, leaning on her chin on her hands.

Alex fidgets in her seat. Where is Michael going with this?

“Attractive, available, always up for a good time.”

She slams her beer on the table, the fizz almost bubbling over the top. Peggy looks over with concern, but Alex lowers her head. He’s making her out to be some whore, what’s worse, she can’t say or do anything about it, not right now.

“Wish fulfillment is what marketing is all about,” Michael continues. “That’s exactly what Angela does. Makes her clients every wish come true.” He hammers the point home.

He opens his mouth, probably to lay the lie even further, but then his phone rings. Alex breathes out, a slight relief. Her fingers unclench but otherwise her entire body is stiff as a board.

“Sorry I have to take this.” He leaves them alone, taking the call a few feet away from them.

Alex stares at her hands, only glancing up for a split second to gauge Peggy’s response. There’s concern in those eyes. Alex clenches her fist again.

“Angie,” Peggy starts. “Angie –“

“I really hate to eat and run, but I have to go back to the office,” Michael steps in, cutting Peggy off.

“Trouble with another ambassador?” Alex spits out, her eyes red-rimmed.

“Peggy, it was a pleasure to meet you. Angela, I’ll see you soon.”

The door clicks shut, Alex still glaring at it. She scoots her chair back, taking her plate and setting it in the sink.

“Here let me help,” Peggy says, sorting the table.

“What’s the point, the mess will be here tomorrow.”

Alex’s jaw ticks, her teeth clenched so tightly her gums start to hurt.

“Angie.” Peggy stands next to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. Alex shrugs it off, wrapping her arms around herself. She doesn’t say a word, staring at out the window.

A few minutes later, Alex still doesn’t turn around at Peggy’s enormous sigh. Her steps echo across the hardwood floor and the door closes with a tiny click.

Here’s to knowing Peggy Carver.

Here’s to a normal life.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Peggy wipes down her chair with a paper towel. Her lips curl into a grimace at the grime coating it. When she’d suggested they meet in a clandestine office, she’d meant a clean one. Not one that’s been sitting idle for the past who knows who long in New Jersey. Next to her Natasha dusts the table with a feather duster and coughs at the plume of dust.

“When’s the last time you came here Peggy?” Steve asks, opening the windows to let in some fresh air.

“I don’t recall.”

Sharon, the only one prepared, snorts under her face mask and snaps on her nitrile gloves. “Drape some cloth on the furniture next time Aunt Peggy.” She helps Maria sweep up the dust collecting on the ground.

“I brought a vacuum,” Triplett says from the doorway. His face, like Sharon’s is covered in a face mask.

“Thank God,” Maria groans. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

Steve plugs it in, making quick work of all the cobwebs and lingering dust as Triplett helps move the furniture.

“Alright well,” Peggy swipes her finger along the table, it comes away clean. “Let’s get started shall we?”

“Is this the whole team?” Sharon asks. “We’re almost all Specialists here.”

Maria shrugs her shoulders. “Mission parameters.”

“You mean we’re the only ones who know Aunt Peggy isn’t a geriatric woman living in a nursing home,” Triplett says. He leans back on his chair and surges forward when the back of the legs almost give out. “Also explains the old secret office.”

“Yes,” says Peggy in clipped tones. Triplett wilts in his seat and keeps his gaze at the front where Maria’s set up a miniature projector. “Agent Hill, if you may.”

“In Operation Monsoon, we stumbled on a USB drive filled with black ops unsanctioned by any legitimate government entity, by a branch that is not yet named. We have reason to believe that key members of the US government are behind this black ops group. One of the ops identifies Senator  Madeline Pierce and Admiral Edward Adams as two of these members.”

“How do we know it’s unsanctioned?” Steve interjects. “These are our government officials and they run this group.”

“The operations here aren’t just from them, there’s some mercenary elements as well.” Maria pulls up files. “Cleaning up a dirty airline, heroin smuggling.”

“I saw this on the news,” Triplett points out. “They didn’t identify the group. We didn’t identify the group.”

Maria crosses her arms. “No we didn’t. The team couldn’t find any traces, whoever did this cleaned up well. No insignia, no official designation.”

“What are we here for?” Natasha drums her fingers on the table. “There’s always been rogue divisions in governments, why are we chasing this one?”

“Because we didn’t know about them,” Peggy answers. “They were operating right under our noses and we had no bloody clue.”

“End goal?” Steve puts the conversation back onto the mission.

“Find out who they are, see if their operations are up to standard,” Peggy says. “We need intelligence before deciding our course of action.”

“We found the messenger for the drive,” Maria pulls up a grainy street camera photo. “This was taken outside of MI5 last night. He was one of the hostages.”

“What do we have on him?” Steve asks.

“Nothing incriminating”

Peggy snaps her head up. “What?”

“Canadian citizen, Brandon Whitman. Former construction worker, retired to London a year ago. No service records, no arrest records. Clean.”

“A cover,” says Peggy.

“Even covers have holes,” says Natasha. “Unless it’s done by a good agency.”

“You’re right, but officially he doesn’t exist, not on any database. We ran it through the usual channels, his face didn’t register through any of them.”

Steve points to his picture. “There’s no way a man with this information is anyone normal.”

“Unless someone erased it,” Natasha says. “Someone with the right backdoor connections that we have, someone with good enough hacking skills.”

“He did get pinged on SHIELD database,” Maria pulls up another screen. “Brandon Whittaker, four accounts of rape and two murders. He was euthanized by lethal injection November 17, 1998. Except, there’s no record of a Brandon Whittaker ever existing, not in the prison system, not in the police database.”

Natasha chuckles darkly and shakes her head. “They’re clever.”

“What do you mean?” Sharon asks with narrowed eyes.

“Most of the intelligence community recruits invisible people, orphans, children, human trafficking. People who wouldn’t be missed.” Natasha points out. “But how do you recruit American citizens?”

“People on death row,” Steve spits out. “Fake their deaths make them indebted to them. Erase their identity. Join or die.”

“It’s a high possibility,” Maria concedes. “But we don’t have concrete evidence of that.”

Triplett tilts his head. “Alright, but why was he at MI5?”

“The USB drive is in the evidence locker.”

“Then what the hell are we looking at if that was there?”

“A copy. It took a few hours for our analysts to break the drives security measures, turns out it’s designed to erase itself as it uploads data.”

“So his drive is erased?” Peggy asks.

“No,” Maria shakes her head. “Their tech isn’t as good as ours. We made a duplicate.”

“There’s a bigger hard drive,” Natasha mumbles. “Question is, how big?”

Sliding a black hard drive across the table, Maria says, “This big.”

All eyes are on the black box, varying levels of shock on all their faces. Peggy breaks first, shaking her head with a soft smile. “Just when did you get this?”

“I was in London, Whittaker happened to go back to the bank and update his drive, I just took it out of the security deposit box after he left.”

“Damn girl,” Triplett coos. “What do you need us for?”

“There’s an issue, I can’t access it.” She slides open the black box and shows them the tiny pin hole. “Biometric lock, we need Whittaker’s blood but we can’t risk alerting them. We need a hacker and a biochemist.”

Triplett nods his head. “Happens to be both on my team.” He pauses and amends, “Coulson’s team.”

“No,” Peggy immediately objects.

“I trust them, they’re my team too.”

“I am not entrusting international security to a level 5 agent and a hacker who’d been hell bent on exposing SHIELD.”

Triplett’s jaw clenches and relaxes, he nods his head. “As you wish Director Carter.”

“It’s just Agent now.”

“As you wish Agent Carter.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, looking back and forth between Sharon and Peggy. “Cause that isn’t going to be confusing at all.”

“You could just call me Agent 13, Black Widow,” Sharon says rolling her eyes.

“Are we going by code names now?” Natasha grins. “Miss Union Jack, how do we proceed? Agent Hill you’re going to need a code name too.”

Maria shoots Natasha an unimpressed look. She focuses her attention to Peggy. “I suggest Agent Morse.”

Taking a second to think about it, Peggy nods her head.

“Great,” Natasha groans.

“You have an issue with Agent Morse?” Maria asks, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Not her, Clint! He’s going to be so annoying when he finds out his ex was in on this before him.”

Peggy rubs the aching spot between her eyes as the rest of the table erupts in laughter. She’s working with children, grown up children who can kill people with their fingers or thighs.

-

Alex looks over her shoulder to Peggy’s door, her hand stills on the door knob. Still no sign of Peggy, not for the past three days. She crosses the threshold to her apartment and her hand reaches for the concealed blade in her belt.

“Peggy?” Her hand lowers. “What are you doing here?”

“Angie, hello,” Peggy says, standing up from the bar stool.

Kicking the door shut, Alex asks, “Did you break into my apartment?”

 Peggy’s mouth twists on her words as she lies, “Your door was ajar, I was just making sure no one unsavory was lurking in.”

“Uh huh.” Alex’s eyebrows raise. “So find anyone unsavory?”

“Fortunately no.”

Hands wringing next to her thighs, Alex says, “Look Peggy, about the other day with my boss –“

“You’ve no need to explain anything to me.” Peggy takes a step closer to Alex, hands thrumming along the countertop.

“—it’s not what you think.” Alex sucks in a breath and eyes her. Peggy nods at her to continue. “My job, it isn’t who I am.”

“Angie, whatever you do for a living, is not my concern. Unless you’re under duress.” Peggy looks at her sharply. “Are you?”

Alex swallows. Not that she’s exactly under duress in Division, but she might as well be. Instead, Alex ducks her head down and shakes it. “It’s not like that, not the way he said it is.”

“When you’re ready to tell me, then you will.”

“And if I’m never ready?”

“We all have secrets Angie, that doesn’t make us bad people.” Peggy smiles. “How about that leftover pie? We never did get to it.”

“Yea, the pie.” Alex sucks in a breath. “Kind of forgot it in the oven and it turned into ash.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Peggy almost pouts. Actually she does pout, but it’s a small tiny one. “Steve makes the best pies.”

“Sorry English.”

“No matter.” Peggy leans over the counter.

Alex’s eyes drift to Peggy’s exposed skin on her back. Luckily her training kicks in and her gaze is at a respectful level when Peggy uncovers a chocolate cake.

“You knew didn’t you?” Alex wipes a finger over the frosting. “Geez this is good,” she says around her fingertip.

“There is an aroma of burnt food still lurking about.” Peggy grabs a fork. “Good thing I came prepared.”

“You were going to make me feel better with cake?”

“Is it working?” Peggy digs a large piece, offering it to Alex.

Alex leans in, lips sliding over the metal. “Oh yea,” she says around a mouthful of chocolatey goodness. “Courtesy of your friend Steve?”

“I’ll have you know, I baked this myself,” Peggy says, chest jutting out proudly.

“You know how to cook?”

“I may have had some assistance.”

Grabbing Peggy’s hand over the fork, Alex sets everything on the countertop. Her thumbs brush against Peggy’s inner wrist. “Thank you.”

“You’re –“ Peggy coughs and her cheeks flush. “Welcome.” She clears her throat. “Right then.” Peggy cuts the cake and puts them on plates.

Alex steps into Peggy’s space when she shouldn’t have. Now, she’s got cake all over her shirt. Peggy grimaces, horrified. “I’m so sorry Angie.”

Peggy’s either got some amazing luck or her British prim and properness have protected her from the disaster of a cake smoosh. Angie’s got it all plastered on her shirt while Peggy doesn’t even have a single crumb on her.

“Here let me…” Peggy turns to get a towel.

“No need.” Alex grins. She wipes a chocolate streak on Peggy’s cheek.

Jaw dropping, Peggy narrows her eyes. “This is war,” she declares.

“Hold on –“ Alex screeches and dives across the room, Peggy chasing her with cake in her hands. “No fair!”

“All is fair in war.” Peggy’s aim is amazingly accurate. Cake doesn’t end on any furniture or floor; it all goes on Alex’s hair.

Tired of losing, Alex tackles Peggy to the ground, surprisingly easy given how Peggy’s been avoiding her. Alex huffs, Peggy let her win, but that’s her mistake. She rubs her cake coated shirt all over Peggy’s face, laughing along with Peggy’s indignant squeak.

“I give up!” Peggy lays limp on the ground. “I worked so hard on that cake you know.”

Alex licks her hand and nods. “It’s really good. You know you got some…” She points all over her own face.

“I’m well aware of that, thank you,” Peggy sulks.

Using her thumbs, Alex wipes, more like smears, the chocolate across Peggy’s cheeks. Shifting forward, Alex’s nose brushes across Peggy’s cheekbone.

“Angie,” Peggy says. “You don’t –“

“I want to,” Alex says, tucking a piece of hair behind Peggy’s ear. “Do you?” Peggy turns her head away. Sitting up, Alex smiles tightly. “Sorry, I thought –“

“I like you,” Peggy interrupts. “More than I probably should.”

“I like you too Peggy.”

“I just, I haven’t,” she stutters and pauses. Peggy closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Haven’t done this with a girl before?” Alex guesses.

Peggy laughs, a big throaty one. “No, no no no. I have been with girls before, boys too. It’s been a long time since I’ve cared for someone. I’m afraid I’d muck it all up.”

Grinding her teeth, Alex smiles sadly. “I haven’t cared for someone in a long time either.”

Peggy motions with her hands. Alex reluctantly climbs off of her, pulling Peggy up to stand. Alex backs away to the kitchen, wetting a towel. She goes to hand it to Peggy but Peggy’s got her caged between her arms. How did…?

“We shouldn’t, well I shouldn’t,” Peggy says. Her actions completely defying her words as her eyes dip to Alex’s lips.

“Sensing a but there.”

“But,” Peggy grins. “I can’t help myself.”

“Yea?” Alex wraps her arms around Peggy’s neck. She tip toes the last few inches Peggy has on her and lightly kisses her.

“You taste like chocolate,” Peggy says, licking her lips.

“So do you.”

“I quite like chocolate.”

“Me too.”

Peggy kisses her with open mouth now, deeper. She kisses like Alex has been fantasizing, assertive and sweet. Literally sweet. Peggy still tastes like cake.

The phone rings.

Of course that would happen. Except it’s Peggy who knocks her forehead against Alex’s and groans.

“I have to take this,” Peggy says. She walks over to the living room in a small act of privacy.

Alex puffs out her cheeks. She takes the time to wipe at her face with the discarded towel until Peggy comes back, her body stiff and coiled. “Everything alright?”

“Work complications.” Peggy frowns. “I’m sorry, this is not an excuse. I really have to go.”

“Go do what you gotta do English, I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Right.” Peggy shuffles her feet. She surges forward, kissing Alex with all she’s got, biting her lip as she ends the kiss.

“Do that again and I’m not letting you leave.”

“I’ll see you later Angie.”

Alex still plasters on a giddy smile even after Peggy’s been long gone, even after she’s showered to get rid of all that cake and chocolate frosting in her hair. Her landline phone rings and Alex rushes out with a towel clasped around her body.

“Hello?” she asks, voice still happy. “Hello?”

The line goes dead.

Alex drops the phone. She goes to the kitchen vent and takes out a burner cellphone.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you in Division,” says Nikita. “We’ve found a Guardian in London, but he’s onto us and we need his location and the box.” She pauses. “Alex!”

“Yea, yea, I’m here.” Alex holds the phone to her ear with one shoulder. She tosses clothes out on the bed from the closet.

“This might be our only chance to get him. I need you on the ball.”

“I got it, I’ll text you when I get it.”

 

Alex stomps with purpose into Division. Michael’s in Operations, perfect. She glances at the monitors, no location in sight. Michael it is then.

“I need to talk to you,” she hisses.

“Now is not a good time.”

Clenching her jaw, she says, “You owe me after what you did.”

Taking his eyes away from the monitors, Michael growls, “Excuse me?” He pulls her by the elbow to the corner of the room for a bit of privacy. “What I did was my job.”

“Peggy is my friend, was my friend. I don’t get to have a life?”

“Your cover doesn’t just protect you, it protects her too,” he points out. He looks over her shoulder, frowning.

Percy’s here, Chief of Division.

She needs more time, Alex redirects Michael’s attention back to her, “I know how to hide a secret, you taught me remember?”

“You got off easy Alex. This conversation is over.” He stands by Percy.

“We got a hit,” Birkhoff, the top hacker says. “Nikita was spotted near St. Christopher’s Church, Jamestown Road. She’s got someone else with her.”

Alex glances between their bodies. Nikita and Owen.

“Owen,” Percy mutters. “Make sure the package is secure, then take them out.”

Michael objects, “Take them out? Percy, they could have more information –“

“I need Nikita dead. Once we secure the package, eliminate them.”

That’s it. Alex disappears behind a corridor, no cameras and no people. Taking her cellphone out of her boot, Alex texts Nikita.

**To N:**

**They have your location at St. Christopher’s. Ordered to eliminate once they’ve secured package from you. Get out.**

**\- A**

 

**From N:**

**We don’t have the package.**

**\- N**

 

Alex frowns. She does another walk by operations, nothing’s changed.

**To N:**

**You have less than 10 minutes until strike team. They think you have the package.**

**-A**

 

Tapping her fingers against her thigh, Alex gets out of Division. If Nikita and Division don’t have the black box, then who does?

-

“Her name is Nikita Mears.” Maria points to her mug shot on the screen.

“Let me guess,” Sharon leans back on her chair. “Not so dead death row?”

“Yes.” Maria nods. “Owen Elliot, he was flagged three months ago in Canada with a bank shooting. Most likely a cover identity, we haven’t been able to find him through facial recog on death row.”

Peggy sighs. “So it’s possible he was in possession of a hard drive as well.”

“The MO fits, question is why are they fighting? Brandon Whittaker is dead and the two of them escaped.”

“Could be they’ve gone rogue,” Natasha says. “Wanted out.”

“But why would they go after the hard drives?” Steve asks.

“Leverage,” Natasha states. “You want to point a gun to the person who trained you, you get leverage.”

Peggy shakes her head. “They should have a hard drive already, they don’t need two.”

“Separated intel?” Maria suggests.

“How far along is Agent Morse?”

“Still trying.”

Peggy taps her finger on the table. “We need to know what’s in the drive.” She sits up in her chair. “Until she unlocks it, we find Nikita Mears and Owen Elliot.”

Nikita Mears.

Whoever she is.

Peggy will find her.

She’s got some questions to ask.


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Percy wants you dead.” Alex unbuttons her navy coat and drops it on the bed in Nikita’s loft.

Nikita paces in front of the computer. “Yea, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Like who actually has the black box?” Owen says from his seat, his feet perched on the table.

“Yea, I have no clue. Percy’s got half of Division looking for you.”

Tapping her finger against her cheek, Nikita sucks in a breath. “Who else would know about the black box? With enough skill and resources to just take it without the Guardian even knowing?” Nikita looks to Alex. “No chatter on Shadownet?”

“Nothing about any black box with incriminating evidence on a shadowey agency.”

“So not the FBI, CIA, or NSA.”

Owen snorts. “They don’t even know we exist.”

“Whoever it is has you and Division fighting each other, if I didn’t know both sides,” Alex trails off.

Nodding, Nikita agrees. “We’d still be going after Percy.”

“What’s the mission now?” Owen asks. “London was the only lead we had.”

“Find out who took it.”

Owen shuts his eyes, blowing a deep frustrated breath out. “We don’t even know if it’s a single person or an entire organization did it.”

“That’s what we have to find out,” Nikita says.

“How do you expect us to do that? They stole the black box, right under a Guardian’s nose and set us up. Alex is right, if she weren’t a double agent, we’d be fighting with Division and not who really took the box.”

Nikita’s back straightens, her eyebrows creased together. “Yes, but they know who we are.”

The chirping of Alex’s phone interrupts their intense epiphany. She ignores their pointed gaze as she looks at her new message.

 

**From Peggy:**

**Just got a bottle of bourbon courtesy of company  
client and blueberry pie from Steve. Are you free tonight?**

 

“Something wrong Alex?” Nikita says, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Oh uh no.” Alex pockets her phone and immediately schools her features. She forces her cheek muscles to relax from the wide smile.

“Right…” Nikita smirks. “As I was saying, they know who we are.” She points to herself and Owen. “There’s no way they missed the gun fight in London. If they have the resources to pull one over Division, they’re already trying to find us.”

Owen’s jaw hangs open. “You’re not suggesting what I think you are, are you?”

“We’re the bait.”

“Hold up,” Owen holds out his hands. “Let’s think about this, remember the planning phase? We don’t even know if they want to just blow our heads off or lock us up or interrogate us.”

“I’m not saying we surrender ourselves to an unknown entity. I’m saying, we lure them out, find out who they are, what they know and we’ll go from there.”

Shaking his head, Owen says, “That’s –“

Another phone dings. This time, it’s Nikita’s. She takes a long look at the screen, her body going rigid. “I have to go,” she says. She grabs a duffel bag and starts stashing clothes and weaponry.

“What’s going on?” Alex asks.

“Something I need to take care of.”

“Is it a black box?” Owen stands next to her.

“No it’s not.” She brushes past him, gathering more clothes.

Owen turns to her, confused.  “What’s more important than a black box?”

“It’s something I have to do,” Nikita says. She shoulders the bag and starts for the door.

“What if they decrypt it?”

Nikita walks backwards and says, “You really think Percy isn’t paranoid enough to make the black box invulnerable? They need a Guardian’s blood to even get started, which Percy conveniently took care of for us.” She pauses. “Start another angle while I’m gone. Find out who can even decrypt a black box.”

Owen and Alex blink as the door shuts. He turns to her and throws his hands up.

“She really just left.”

“Yea, was kind of there for the whole thing,” Alex shrugs. She bounces on her toes and smiles. “Well, have fun searching.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“None of your business. Should probably get to looking for those hackers though.”

“Women,” Owen says, rolling his eyes. “Unbelievable.”

Alex tosses one of Nikita’s jackets to his face as she steps out, grinning at his indignant shout.

-

“Haven’t heard back yet?” Steve asks, leaning against the wall of Peggy’s kitchen.

Peggy fumbles with her phone and puts it back in her pocket. She wipes her sweaty hands against her jeans. “What? I was just checking the time.”

“Right.”

“Was there something you needed?”

“Glasses.”

“Cabinet to your right,” Peggy says, pointing to the cabinet next to his head. She takes the glasses he hands her. “Decided what to eat yet?” she asks, laying the glasses in front of them on the dining room table.

“I wanted pizza,” Natasha pouts from the side.

Peggy stills. “Absolutely not.” She looks pointedly at Steve and Maria, who at least have the decency to look away sheepishly. The wounds of Chicago deep dish vs. New York style still fresh in their minds. “Thai food, I know a place that delivers.”

Everyone nods their consent; Peggy finishes up ordering while Steve uncorks her bottle of brandy. “Oh,” Peggy says, putting her phone away.

“What?” Steve asks, already pouring a generous amount into everyone’s glasses.

“Nothing, it’s alright.” Peggy sips it, swishing the alcohol in her mouth, savoring the taste. “Kind of pointless really.”

“Not for me,” Maria says.

Natasha pulls a flask from her jacket, pouring clear liquid into Steve, Peggy’s and her own drinks. “Courtesy of Stark.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asks, eyeing the drink in suspicion.

“I got tipsy,” Natasha says with a shrug.

“She got drunk,” Maria amends, nudging Natasha’s ribs.

Peggy downs the entire glass, relishing the burn in her throat. “So it’ll work then.” She taps the empty glass with her fingernail. “How many do we need to feel it?” she asks.

Steve pours more bourbon in after Natasha tops off with mysterious liquor.

“Three maybe four,” Natasha says.

“Let’s stick with three.” Maria levels a stare at them. “I don’t want to deal with drunk super soldiers.”

Peggy turns to her door at the familiar sound of rapid knocking. A hopeful smile spread across her lips.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” Natasha groans.

“I don’t think that’s delivery,” Peggy says over her shoulder. She opens the door, her suspicions correct. “Angie.”

“Hey English,” Alex says.

Peggy stands in the doorway, half hiding her apartment with her body.

“Gonna let me in?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think you were coming.”

Alex’s forehead crinkles, she pulls out her phone and checks her messages. “Oh, I thought I replied. God I’m so sorry Peggy.”

“It’s alright,” Peggy says with a shake of her head. She grips the door tighter in her hand, until it gets pushed away despite her efforts. Peggy’s lips tighten into a smile.

“Hi,” Natasha says, propping her shoulder against the door.

“Hi.” Alex looks back and forth between Natasha and Peggy. “Am I interrupting?”

“No!” Peggy clears her throat while Natasha raises an eyebrow at her outburst. “No, this is Natasha, a colleague, a very annoying at that.”

“You must be Angie.”

Alex takes Natasha’s outstretched hand and squeezes. “Yea, Peggy’s never mentioned you before though.”

Peggy groans and raises her voice. “Maria, control your girlfriend.” She takes Natasha by the shoulders and pushes her back into the apartment. Peggy puffs out her cheeks, blowing a piece of her hair away from her face. She plasters on a smile and takes Alex’s arm. “Come on now, might as well get this over with.”

“What?”

“Meeting my…” Peggy pauses, finding the right word. “Friends. Angie, that’s Steve, Maria.”

“Hi,” Alex waves, standing stiffly next to Peggy.

“Ah. You’re the neighbor,” Steve says, rising from his seat. He engulfs Alex’s small hand in his, shaking it. “Peggy’s told us about you.”

“She did?” Alex glances at a now blushing Peggy. “Steve, the one who cooks?”

“Yea,” he scratches at his neck. “It’s soothing.”

“You baked a blueberry pie right?”

“Pie?” Natasha’s head snaps up. She narrows her eyes at him. “Where?”

“Had,” Peggy says. She gives Natasha a look. “Dropped it on the way here, remember?”

Natasha’s cheek twitches. Dropped. If dropped means bashing pie into someone’s face for being annoying. He never saw it coming despite his code name being Hawkeye.

“Peggy hasn’t told us much about you,” Maria says, her elbows coming to rest on the table. She kicks the chair across from her out. “Have a seat Angie.”

“Oh she’d love to stay,” Peggy says. “But you have that thing tomorrow morning –“

“It’s alright English,” Alex pats Peggy’s shoulders.

“Yea Peggy, she’s fine right here.” Maria smiles, all teeth with predatory intent. She pours a full glass of bourbon, sliding it across the table to Alex.

Steve shrugs helplessly as Maria and Natasha grill her. He smiles boyishly and whispers to her, “All’s fair, you did this to Natasha.”

 

Nearly slamming the door behind her so-called friends, Peggy thunks her forehead against the cool wood.

“Your friends are -” Alex bites her lip, “-intense.”

“I am so sorry Angie.” Peggy drops on the couch next to Angie, sliding her arm around her shoulders.

“Felt like I was in an interrogation.”

Peggy clears her throat. “Yes, well they do have that air about them don’t they? If it’s any consolation you passed.”

“Good.” Alex snuggles in, brushing the tip of her nose against Peggy’s throat.

Breath hitching, Peggy pecks Alex’s forehead and squeezes her shoulder. She tilts Alex’s chin up for a kiss. Peggy yawns. Loudly.

Alex pushes Peggy away, giggling. “Tired?”

“Sorry,” Peggy covers her mouth, still midway through yawning. “I haven’t felt like this in ages.”

“Like what?”

“Lethargic? I don’t know how to describe it. If I don’t drink enough to get tipsy I get horribly knackered instead.”

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” Alex says, pulling Peggy up with her.

“I’m not that tired.” Another yawn betrays her. Alright, so maybe she is tired. “You don’t have to do that,” Peggy protests as Alex takes off her shoes and socks.

“Taking care of my girl.” She pulls the blanket away from the bed, tucking Peggy in. “Night English,” she says, kissing Peggy on the forehead.

“Mmm…” Peggy mutters, eyes fluttering. She caresses Alex’s cheek. “Stay?”

“Scoot over.”

They settle on the bed, Peggy slinging an arm over Alex’s waist and burrowing her head in Alex’s neck.

 

“Ny…et.”

Peggy blinks, her eyes watering as she squints in the dark room. She turns over, the glowing numbers of her digital clock reflecting on the table. 4:10 AM.

“Pa…pa.”

“Angie?” Peggy mumbles, still half asleep.

Alex murmurs next to her, face sweaty. A nightmare.

“It’s okay,” Peggy says, rubbing her hand across Alex’s shoulder. She listens to Alex’s breathing until they level out. Peggy shifts closer, gently holding Alex in her arms. Alex breathes and says something under her breath.

“Shh…” Peggy soothes. In a few minutes, Alex’s nightmare abates and Peggy, on the edge of sleep snaps awake.

Alex spoke in Russian.

-

Peggy’s being weird.

Ever since that dinner with her friends, Peggy’s just been off.

Did Peggy’s friends find her unfit to be Peggy’s girlfriend after all?

Those questions can wait, because Amanda corners her in Division.

“Alex.”

“Amanda.”

“Let’s have a chat,” Amanda says with a smile. It doesn’t fool anyone.

“Right now?”

Amanda leads her away. “That’s why I called you here.”

“I thought there was a mission.” Alex wracks her brain, what on earth could Amanda want her for now?

“It’s routine,” Amanda says, gesturing to the sofa.

“Routine?” Alex reluctantly sits.

“Yes, adjusting to life on the outside can be hard.”

Alex forces a smile. “I’m fine.”

“It’s been three months since you’ve reached Agent status and three months living under your cover.” Amanda crosses her legs. “How are you adjusting?”

“Well, it’s a little dull.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate how much of a change this is. I imagine it’s brought up a lot of different feelings. For instance, your neighbor, Margaret Carver.”

Alex’s pupils blow wide, the only indication of her dread.

“We noticed you’ve been spending a lot of your free time with her.”

“She’s just a neighbor.”

Amanda pulls on a sympathetic face. “When it comes to these sorts of situations, you can confide in me. I’m a woman too. I understand the urge to connect.”

“Don’t worry,” Alex almost spits out. “We’re not connecting.”

“She lives in such close proximity to you, it’s understandable to want that companionship, but remember, everything about your life out there is just to facilitate what you do in here.”

The door opens, forcing Amanda to look away. Thankfully, their little heart to heart session gets interrupted by Michael.

“Alex, briefing was 5 minutes ago.” His mouth thins to a line.

“Jayden is taking her place,” Amanda says. “Didn’t you get the updated roster?”

Michael frowns, looking through his tablet. “Ah.”

“While you’re here, what do you think of Alex’s neighbor, Margaret Carver?”

“What do you mean?”

“As Alex’s handler, what is your opinion on her relationship with Margaret?”

Fists clenching, Alex bites her tongue. If he says anything negative, Peggy’s in danger. She stares at him pleadingly as Amanda zeroes in her focus on him.

Michael shrugs. “Alex is just maintaining her cover, having a sense of friendship solidifies it.”

Alex blinks. He didn’t through her under the bus.

“You’re sure her relationship won’t compromise her work?”

“I’m sure Alex knows what the appropriate level is. Right Alex?”

“Definitely.” She nods.

Amanda purses her lips but nods in agreement. “I trust your judgment Michael, and Alex, do remember that should you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here to help.”

“Of course Amanda.” Alex smiles sweetly, walking out of the room, her heart thudding.

Like hell she’d ever speak with Amanda.

Back in the real world, Alex ensures that no tails and no surveillance is around her. She takes out her burner cell phone.

“What’s wrong” Nikita asks straightaway.

“Amana knows I’ve been spending time with Peggy. I thought you said you rerouted my tracker.”

“I did.”

“Then how the hell does she know?”

“The Watchman,” Nikita sighs. “I can’t do much about him.”

“Who’s the Watchman?”

“Division, he keeps an eye on agents and their cover lives, making sure agents don’t step out of line or get too close to anyone. Have you been out in public with her?”

“Well yea, we go on dates sometimes. I didn’t see anyone watching me.”

“You wouldn’t. He’s honed his craft, even if you were looking for him, you wouldn’t spot him, he changes his appearance.”

“What do I do?” Alex taps her foot nervously on the ground. “Is she going to be okay?”

“What did Amanda say?”

“She knows I’ve been spending time with her, implicitly threatened her life, weird thing is Michael vetted me. I don’t know what his game is. Should I be worried about him too?”

There’s a pause, a long inhale of breath. “We need to talk about Michael.”

“Oh great,” Alex rolls her eyes, kicking at the brick wall in the alley. “What now?”

“He’s on our side now.”

Alex’s jaw works up and down. “What?”

“That mission I went on. Short version, Michael now knows just how far Percy’s gone. It’s personal now.”

“So he was actually trying to help me?”

“Yea.”

“Okay, fine, if you trust him then I will too. But Peggy, is she going to be okay? I need to get her out of here if –“

“Alex,” Nikita says, voice soothing and authoritative at once.  “Michael said he waylaid Amanda’s plan for now, but you have to be more careful.”

“Okay…okay. No more public dates.”

-

“Carter.” Natasha sits next to her on the park bench, taking a sip of the offered coffee.

Peggy fiddles with the sleeve of her cup. “I need your Russian contacts.”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow, she drinks her coffee, looking ahead. “This something you should be talking to Maria about?”

“It’s just a hunch.”

“Your hunches usually lead to car chases and bombs.”

“That’s exaggerating isn’t it?”

Natasha side eyes her.

Peggy gives her one of those you’re-right-but-I-don’t-care smiles.

“What do you need me to do?” Natasha asks.

“Angela Martinelli.”

“We already vetted your girlfriend.” Natasha studies Peggy. “Something happened.”

“As I said, it’s just a small hunch.”

Natasha and Peggy’s phones both beep at the same time. They both read the message and share a look.

“Looks like your girl will have to wait,” Natasha says. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” A smile creeps up on Peggy’s face and settles in. Her old mission going right smiles, one Natasha hasn’t seen for quite a while. “Let’s go see what Pandora’s box holds.


	4. Chapter 4

“So it’s locked?”

“Agent Morse bypassed the biometric scan with this.” Maria points to the vial of red liquid. “Synthetic blood, but it’s still heavily encrypted.”

Peggy slides the drive and blood over to Natasha. “Have a go.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha says, one side of her mouth quirking up. She plugs the black box into her laptop, unscrewing the cap of the vial and pouring a drop onto the pad. Positive match.

“Can you crack it?” Steve asks.

“The person who developed this is smart,” Natasha replies, still typing. “I can hack it but not with this computer. I’m going to need more firepower, but in the meantime, I can run a tracer. SHIELD developed it to track hostile malware and here we’ll have a location of origin.” She presses enter, triumphantly spins the laptop around for everyone to see. “New Jersey.”

“How convenient,” Peggy says, her finger tapping the screen. “That’s not too far from here.” Her eyebrows scrunch together, the location familiar. “The terrain.”

“Old missile silo base,” Maria finishes for her, her own tablet displaying the coordinates.

“That won’t be easy to infiltrate,” says Sharon. “Schematics are at least a decade old, who knows how much they modified it.”

Rubbing a hand across her face, Peggy takes note of the room, a plan formulating. She puts her hands down on the table and stands up. “Steve, Sharon. Recon and information. I need to know exactly who and what is there. Do not engage, fact finding mission only.”

They nod. Peggy turns to Natasha. “What do you need to decrypt this?”

“SCIF room in Triskelion or the Hub.”

Peggy frowns. “I no longer have the authority to authorize that, but you already know.”

“Not a problem, I can make my own super computer. But we have another problem,” Natasha says, pulling the laptop back. She points to the black box. “This has an onboard wireless signal, it can broadcast all the information to these places.” The map indicates over twenty dots in the world. “Every major and minor news outlet.”

Realization dawns on Peggy first, the others following. “Insurance, that’s what this is.”

“And leverage,” Maria adds.

“If the owner of this box feels threatened, they might upload all the contents,” Steve says.

“Yes, but only as a last resort,” Peggy says. “First priority is finding all of them.”

Natasha waves her hand flippantly, already on it. “White band signal, doesn’t exist on the market. Rudimentary actually, SHIELD has better. Only issue is that I can only locate it when something is being transferred.” Her fingers still on the keyboard. “And there we go, automatic locator program installed, if anything happens we’ll know.”

“Splendid,” Peggy huffs with an eye roll. “Now all we need is for them to upload all their secrets for the world to see.”

“Downloading works the same way.”

“Except they’re updated by thumb drive.”

“For now.”

“What do you mean by that?” Peggy asks, intrigued.

“If they think the thumb drive is compromised, they’d be forced to find a new way to update them. There’s already a signal they can use, they’d just need the proper engineer to figure it out.”

“How do you propose we –“

Maria cuts Peggy off. “Someone’s done our work for us. The video of the Chile assassination was just released by an anonymous source.”

“Oh bloody Nora,” Peggy swears.

-

“You did what?” Nikita hisses. She paces angrily in front of Owen, muttering obscenities under her breath.

“I made a decision while you two were gallivanting God knows where,” Owen says.

Alex purses her lips and glares at him.

“That doesn’t mean you do something stupid like this and leak intel Owen.” Nikita shuts her eyes, takes in a deep calming breath. “What possible reason do you have to do that? And how did you get that video, I shot your black box.”

“The video didn’t come from the black box, it came from this.” Owen wiggles the thumb drive in his hand. “But whoever does have one of the black boxes would know this intel is from there.”

“Yes, but so would Percy. He’d think we leaked the video, which oh we did just not from the black box.”

“What were you hoping to achieve?” Alex asks, genuinely curious.

“Look,” Owen says, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “We’ve got mysterious party taking the black box right from under Percy’s and our noses. They know things we don’t know, resources we don’t have.”

“Owen, you’re not suggesting we team up with them are you?” Nikita asks. “Because we have no idea who they are and what they want with the box. They could be worse than Division ever could be, and they know who we are.”

“Exactly, they’re watching us, we just have to catch them.”

“This isn’t just about them Owen,” Nikita says. “Percy is going to find someone to take the fall for this.”

“What do you mean?”

Nikita shakes her head, pointing to the new news reports filtering through the computer. Violence in Chile, anti-American sentiment, the works. “They’re going to find a patsy to blame.”

“I didn’t realize…” Owen’s mouth opens and closes, finding the right words. “I didn’t think of the collateral damage, not at this scale.”

“So…” Alex steps in. “We not only have to deal with Percy and his evil plans, but mystery organization?”

“This is why we discuss plans before doing them,” Nikita says, giving Owen a pointed look.

 

Later, as things get settled, Nikita pulls Alex aside.

“What’s going on with you?” she asks, rubbing her hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“Your heads not in the game lately.”

Alex pats Nikita’s hand, her lips forcing a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you and Peggy okay?”

“We’re fine,” Alex lies. “We just haven’t talked much, with all this Division stuff. I haven’t seen her is all.”

“Okay,” Nikita says, after a few moments of studying her. “I’ll get in touch with Michael, see what Percy’s up to.”

Alex sags in relief after Nikita turns around, she busies herself, pushing bullets into the magazine, ignoring the looks Owen gives her as he bumps into the table next to her.

“I had that feeling once,” Owen says.

“What?” Alex moves onto the next magazine, bullets going in rougher.

“Normal.”

Her hands still. “I don’t know –“

“You found someone didn’t you? Someone that made you feel human again. Someone you care about. I know that look. I’ve seen it.”

“On the people you’ve killed?” Alex says, side eyeing him.

“Yes. And on me.” Owen shrugs, nonplussed.

She shakes her head. “I’m not having this heart to heart with you.”

“You love them already.”

Alex goes completely rigid, her eyes widening.

“You didn’t know that,” Owen realizes.

“I like her, okay? And it’s none of your business,” she mutters, moving away.

“It’s getting harder right? To keep it a secret. Wondering if you should tell them, if they’ll still love you when they find out.”

Alex keeps her eyes down, not letting him have the satisfaction of shaking her.

“Word of advice.”

“Please impart your unneeded wisdom,” Alex says with a roll of her eyes.

“Leave her. If you love her, then you got to let her go. The people we care about? The innocent ones, they’re not like us. We get them killed.” Owen walks away, leaving Alex at the table alone with the guns dismantled in front of her. She grits her teeth and continues working, shoving bullets in one at a time, until the bullet slips her fingers from the full magazine.

-

“Maria approved the budget?” Peggy asks, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she ties her shoes. “Fine, let’s hope whatever set up you have actually works.” She drops the phone into her hand, ending the call.

“Peggy?” Alex’s muffled voice asks through the door. Strong distinct rapid knocks follow.

Peggy stalls, half rising in her seat. She swallows, looking to the door, an indecisive expression flitting across her face.

“Peggy you in there?”

She sighs, tugging on a hoodie, her eyes doing a cursory check of her apartment. No SHIELD related items in sight, per usual, she never brings work home, at least not this home.

“Angie,” greets Peggy, holding the door wider for her to come in. Alex fidgets in the kitchen, biting her lips, not directly looking at Peggy but all around her. “What’s wrong?”

“We should sit.” Alex toes the stool in front of Peggy.

“Alright.”

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “Things have been weird between us.”

Peggy studies the granite countertop. “Angie, I’ve just –“

“There are things you should know,” Alex interrupts, “about me. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, after.”

Peggy reaches for Alex’s hand, only for her to yank it back. “Angie, what –“

“That’s not my name. My real name is Alex. Short for Alexandra.”

A crack shows in Peggy’s carefully kept stoic face, her lips thin to a line, eyes hardening.

Blinking back tears, Alex sniffles. “I was a sex slave, from Russia.”

“Oh.” All the scenarios of assassins and spies leave her head. Peggy’s eyebrow creases, rapidly coming up with something, anything to say. It takes a moment too long.

“I should go,” Alex says, wiping the wetness from her cheeks.

“Don’t.” Peggy grabs her thin wrist and holds firm, not tight. “I’m sorry, that was a bit of a shock. I can’t say I was expecting that at all.”

“Not every day your girlfriend tells you she’d been a whore?” Alex jokes, forcing a laugh.

“Do you prefer to be called Alex or Angie?”

“Alex.”

Peggy nods. She squeezes gently on Alex’s shoulders. “Michael, is he –“

“No!” Alex shouts. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not…I escaped. He’s just a coworker, honest.”

“You can tell me Alex,” Peggy says, trying the new name out. “If anyone’s hurting or taking advantage of you…”

“You gonna whisk in and save me?” Alex teases, but the look in her eyes is anything but humorous.

“No, I think you have that handled. Doesn’t mean I can’t help though.”

“You don’t have to worry about me Peggy.” Alex swallows, smile dying to a frown. “I just wanted you to know the truth.”

Peggy’s jaw hangs open; it shuts with a click of her teeth. It’s a shame she can’t afford Alex the same courtesy of honesty. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“If you don’t want to see me anymore, I totally understand,” Alex says, taking a step back, away from Peggy and wraps her arms around herself.

“Ang – Alex. We all have pasts.”

“Not like mine, I’m not normal. I’ll never be normal.”

“Neither will I.”

Alex laughs scathingly. “Really English? You’re an event planner, how not normal are you?”

Peggy grins, holding Alex’s hand. The brevity of the mood seeping in. “Have I ever told you about my clients? Stark is a grade A prick. And don’t get me started on Justin Hammer.”

“Come on, tell me about your rich asshole clients.” Alex goes straight to Peggy’s cabinet, pulling out the good liquor behind the schnapps and filling the glasses to the brim.  

-

Steve heaves the box over his head, placing it on the ground next to Natasha while Maria slips under the table to plug in the various cords.

“I think that’s all,” Steve says, wiping his sweaty forehead.

“Hmm…move that table about half a foot.” Natasha points to another table full of equipment.

Peggy flips open her knife, slashing boxes and plastic baggies full of computer equipment. She sees her opening, Steve busy moving yet another piece of furniture, Maria setting up the other monitors next to him. Natasha swings her legs as she sits on the table, popping her gum.

“Forget about my favor,” Peggy says, handing Natasha a random keyboard.

Natasha blows a bubble, popping it with her teeth. “What favor?” She jumps off the table, helping Maria set up the rest of the equipment.

Peggy dusts off her jeans and straightens her back. “How long until you can decrypt the drive?”

“Give or take four hours.”

“You have three.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha salutes.

-

“Oversight’s having a meeting, Percy’s trying to get into it,” Michael says with crossed arms. “He thinks the Chile incident is prompting it.”

Nikita cocks her head to the side. “What do you mean trying?”

Shifting uncomfortably in his shoes, Michael straightens his suit jacket. “He can’t get an invite.”

“I’m sorry what?” Alex asks. “Percy can’t get an invite?”

Owen furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “What kind of meeting is this?”

“That’s precisely why Oversight chose it, it’s one of Stark’s parties. Impossible to get into without months of advanced vetting.”

“I remember Stark parties,” Nikita says. “After his abduction, he’d gotten paranoid. Rightfully so but Division never got an operative in. Clever move by Oversight.”

“Yes, but we might have a way in.” Michael looks to Alex, his eyes apologetic. “Amanda, noticed the connection.”

“What connection? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“The event planner.”

Alex’s face drops in comprehension, her lips purse grimly. Shaking her head, Alex says, “No. No way, you’re not bringing her into this.”

“We don’t have a choice, Percy’s going to tell you to do this, I’m just giving you a heads up.”

“Event planner, you don’t mean…Peggy?” asks Nikita.

“Yes,” Michael confirms.

“No.” Alex stomps her foot on the ground. “No, I’m not doing it.”

Michael takes a step closer to her, voice low. “You don’t understand. This isn’t a request. There’s no telling what Amanda and Percy would do to you or Peggy if you fail to get him in.”

“Maybe there’s a way Alex can get him in without actually involving her,” Nikita offers, trying to defuse the situation. “Duplicate her computer? Get her passwords?”

“If it were that easy, don’t you think we would have done that already?” Michael rubs a hand over his face. “This is Tony Stark’s events we’re talking about, even if he weren’t in attendance, it’s impossible to get in. You can’t hack into it, everything must be approved. All the ID tags are unique and have to be authorized, no duplicates.”

Nikita drops her arms and looks helplessly at Alex.

“I can’t risk –“

“She’s already at risk,” Michael interrupts. “Division knows you care about her. If you can’t use her, you know what they’ll do.”

“We can use this,” Nikita says, nodding her head as she schemes.

Alex throws her hands in the air. “How do I even ask her?”

-

“Alex?” Peggy says into her phone as she shuts the door behind her.

“Hey English, you ain’t home yet?”

“I’m afraid not, overtime at the office.”

“I got some chocolate cake and whiskey waiting for you when you get back.”

Peggy’s lips quirk into a smile, she leans against the wall. “What’s the occasion?”

“I might have a favor to ask.”

“Oh?”

“You know how you were saying you organized events for Tony Stark?”

“My company has done some of his events, he has quite a lot of parties you know.”

“Yea, well my boss really really wants to go to one and he’s giving me Hell about it. And my other friend wants to see the glamour of New York, and I thought hey what better than a Stark party?”

“You’re asking me to get you invitations for your boss and friend? For what?”

“I don’t know, any events with Stark quality in the week?”

“Hold on,” Peggy says. She scrolls through her phone, her cover identity’s calendar popping up. There is indeed a Stark party this weekend. A rather important one at that, lots of diplomats and high ranking officials. “There may be an event this week. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to slip them in though. There’s a very long and arduous process.”

“Please Peggy?” Alex practically whines.

“I’m going to need their names and pictures.”

“Thanks Peggy! God you’re a lifesaver, I promise I won’t take a bite of your cake.”

Peggy blinks. “Was that a euphemism? If it was, I certainly wouldn’t mind you taking a bite.”

“Shut up English.”

Her phone beeps, two messages.

“Sent you their names and pictures,” Alex says.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do, I can’t promise that they’ll be able to even see Tony though. He’s unpredictable at best.”

“No problem, just being there would be a huge check.”

“Alright,” Peggy waves to Steve poking her head out of the door. “I have to go back to work, we’ll talk later.”

“Bye Pegs.”

“Girlfriend?” Steve teases.

“Quiet you.” She knocks his broad shoulder as she goes into the room. Opening the message, she stops in her tracks, her blood running cold.

Nikita Mears.

Alex wants her to get Nikita Mears in.

She goes to the next message, Percival Rose. Peggy narrows her eyes.

“Peggy?” Steve asks, tapping her shoulder.

Peggy shrugs him off, tossing her phone to Natasha. “You have the drive decrypted?”

“Yea, what’s this?”

“Look him up first.”

“Alright.” Natasha taps on her keyboard, filtering through the endless amount of data on the drive. “And what’s second?”

Peggy grits her teeth, her eyes hardening. “Angela Martinelli, might also go by Alexandra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone offered me their soul for an update but I’d take payment in a drawing form. Maybe one of Peggy in her Union Jack uniform (with Angie totally admiring it?)


	5. Chapter 5

 

“You’re going to pick up your pass there, it’s under Emily Cho,” Alex says. She taps her phone against the palm of her hands, nervous.

“Alex,” Nikita says reassuringly. “It’s only a simple recon mission. I won’t even go near Percy.”

“Yea, I know.”

“But?”

Alex shakes her head. “She shouldn’t be involved in Division stuff.”

“I know,” Nikita says. “If there was any –“

“I know I know,” Alex cuts in. “You would’ve found another way if you could. I get it.”

“Hold on.” Nikita puts her finger up, one minute. She answers her phone. “Michael?” She stiffens and acknowledges him before turning to Alex, face taut with tension.

“What is it?”

“There’s movement on the black box, Percy thinks I’m trying to find someone to decrypt it.”

Alex’s eyes shine in understanding. “Whoever took it is trying to crack it. What do we do?”

“Percy’s sending in a team to delay the hacker, he’s CIA, at least that’ll keep him safe. They’re meeting in about an hour. Percy’s going to get someone to impersonate him.”

“Which means he needs time.”

“Exactly, get Owen, they’ve finally made a mistake.”

 

Sitting on top of a shipping container, Owen relays the target’s stats to both Nikita and Alex. “Female, brunette. No other targets in site. Pistol holstered to her belt, can’t tell the make from here.”

“Got it, Owen you take the North side, I’ll go in from the South. Alex make sure she doesn’t make it to her car,” Nikita instructs.

“Copy,” they both reply.

Alex crouches behind the metal container, the target’s car in her sight. She readjusts the grip on her gun and waits. A minute later, the sounds of scuffle and shouts filter through her earpiece.

“Nikita?” Alex says after a few seconds of silence.

“She’s coming to you,” Owen wheezes.

“Shit,” she hisses. Rapid footsteps, boots scrapping against asphalt. Alex counts to five and kicks out the trash can in front of her. It collides with the target, sending her sprawling to the ground. Alex rears her arm back, hitting the target across the face. The target drops face first on the ground. Pointing her gun at the unconscious body, Alex waits. Thirty seconds. No movement. She kicks a stone to the target’s body. Nothing. “She’s down,” Alex says into her comm.

Holstering her gun, Alex sees a sprig of loose hair, different color. A wig then. She rips off the wig and turns her over. Redhead.

“Alex, you okay?” Nikita asks.

Alex shakes her head.

“Did she hurt you?” Nikita scans Alex’s body, no injuries.

“I know her,” Alex says, voice shaky.

“Division?”

“No.” Alex licks her lips, staring at the target. “She’s Peggy’s friend. Natasha.”

 

“She doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Alex says, the slight quiver of her voice betrays her conviction.

Owen points an accusing finger at the other room, where Natasha sits bound and still unconscious in a chair. “Yea? How do you explain her?”

“He’s right,” Nikita says, pointedly staring at Alex. “We need to know, confirm if Peggy has anything to do with the black boxes. We could be compromised, especially with the Stark event.”

Alex shuts her eyes tight and balls her fists. “Fine,” she grits out. She stands up so fast, the chair wobbles on its feet. Passing by Nikita, Alex says under her breath, “Try not to hurt her, please.”

Nikita nods once. “I’ll try.”

-

“Maria was in the marines?” Alex asks, sipping her coffee in the kitchen.

Peggy nods, cheeks bulging with a half-masticated muffin.

“Wow, that explains things.”

Swallowing her food, Peggy washes down the crumbs with tea. “How so?”

“Way she moves I guess? A bit stiff and looks like she can kill me ten different ways with a fork.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Peggy waves her hand dismissively. “There’s fifteen ways.”

“Shut up English.” Swatting Peggy’s arm, Alex ducks her head behind her mug, her smile fading. “And Natasha? What does she do?”

“She’s bounced around a bit. Modeled in Tokyo to pay for college now she’s a legal assistant.”

“Really?” Alex sets her mug down and drums her fingers along the countertop.

“I really shouldn’t be showing you this.” Pulling out her phone, Peggy enters her instagram and finds Natasha’s profile, choosing the appropriate photos.

Alex swipes through them. Normal modeling photos. Great poses though. “Huh,” she says, handing the phone back.

“What?”

“Legal assistant seems a bit boring for her y’know? Sure she doesn’t do other things on the side?”

“You’re perceptive,” Peggy says. “She does have a penchant for Black Jack, she can count cards. Eidetic memory.”

“Really?”

“Never ever play poker with her,” Peggy says, grimly.

Alex’s lip tilts into a smirk. “You lose a lot of money?”

“Let’s just say my retirement has been delayed for a few years because of her.”

Later, on the couch, Peggy tucks a loose strand of hair behind Alex’s ear. Instead of pulling her hand away, she lays it on her shoulder. Alex wets her lips, moving forward, they’re kissing, softly.

Five.

Peggy hugs Alex close, softly pressing her down to the couch.

Four.

Peggy’s thumb caresses Alex’s cheek.

Three.

Peggy tilts Alex’s head back, licking into her mouth.

Two.

Peggy leans away.

One.

Alex’s breathing evens out. Unconscious. 

“Alex?” Peggy lightly shakes her. No answer. She sets her phone timer, 4 minutes 30 seconds. Wiping off her lipstick and her lipstick on Alex’s mouth, Peggy shoves it into her jacket pocket. She pulls out a device from her purse, small, chrome, pen-like, except for the button and the red tipped light. She goes to the doors first, scanning every nook and cranny in Alex’s apartment. No change.

Peggy frowns. She sits heavily on the coffee table next to Alex. Her device beeps. Peggy checks her whole body, head to toe, the strongest signal at the base of her neck. Peggy tenses. There’s really only one reason why a tracker emits a signal from there. She curses under her breath, turning off the device and throwing it into her purse. Her phone beeps, right on time. Peggy silences it and crawls back on top of Alex.

Leaning in close, Peggy doesn’t quite touch her until Alex stirs awake. Peggy lazily kisses her.

“Wow,” Alex says, eyes opening.

“Yes, wow,” Peggy replies.

“Kissed your lipstick off huh?”

“Bit too much tongue there darling.”

Alex pouts and swats at Peggy’s arm. “Shut up.” A grin makes its way to Alex’s face. “I’ll show you too much tongue.”

-

“You need ice?” Sharon snarks, pointing to the bruise blooming on Natasha’s jaw.

“Sharon,” Maria says sharply with arms crossed.

Natasha sticks her tongue out at Sharon from behind Maria.

“That’s the only wound you have?” Peggy asks.

“Courtesy of your girlfriend. But should probably thank her, only reason why it’s the only wound.”

“Was the intel worth you going in like that?” Steve asks, handing Natasha the ice pack. She takes it with a huff but presses it against her jaw regardless.

“Steve,” Peggy says. “Natasha has a very specific skillset.”

“I know, she just shouldn’t have to do that.”

“I’m fine Mr. Fossil,” Natasha slaps him good naturedly in the stomach. “I can handle it. Elliot and Mears are rogue agents, hell bent on taking down Division. They don’t want to release the contents, well, Mears doesn’t. She plans on destroying all of them, whatever leverage Percy has on our esteemed government officials goes away and Division can shut down.” Natasha sighs and rolls her eyes. “Idealistic assassin.”

“We could watch this play out,” Maria says.

“We could,” Peggy parrots. She shakes her head. Alex would be involved no matter what.

Natasha stares at Peggy, observing. “Or we could step in, help them.”

“Helping rogue assassins?” Steve asks stiffly.

“They don’t understand the calamity of simply destroying Division.” Peggy rolls her shoulders, wincing at the crack. “No one ever looks at the bigger picture.”

“Well you do,” Sharon says, tapping her finger on the table. “You have a plan.”

“We’ve done it before,” Peggy answers, looking towards Natasha. “Helping rogue agents take down their creators.”

“What about the rest of the agents? We’re counting at least 100 agents, 30 of them undercover overseas.” Maria points out.

“We can’t just let them disappear,” Steve says. “Trained assassins in the general population.”

“No master but their own,” Natasha adds. “Not a good combination.

“Absorb them into SHIELD,” advises Sharon.

“They might not be willing to,” Maria plays devil’s advocate. “Division pulled most of them from death row, he has their loyalty.”

Peggy turns to Natasha. “Why did they go rogue?”

“Division killed their lovers. Apparently no emotional attachments, nothing but Division.”

“And Alex? How does she fit into this?”

Natasha shrugs. “Couldn’t find that out.”

“We need to find out why she became a double agent.”

“You’re in a better position to find that out Carter.”

A jaw muscle tenses, Peggy comes to a decision. “No. We’re taking them in. But first,” Peggy takes out the device from her purse and slides it over to Natasha. “I need you to duplicate the signal and find a way to deactivate the mechanism.”

-

“Hey –“ Alex stops in her tracks. “What in the hell?”

She takes in the damage, Owen’s icing his groin while Nikita holds one to her neck. Furniture askew, Alex tilts her head. That chair is completely shattered, handcuffs dangling off one intact post.

“Alex,” Nikita says, relieved. “Please tell me you got intel.”

“I…uh…not really.”

Owen groans, from pain or disappointment, probably both. “Great, we have one mysterious assassin beating up our asses and we know nothing.”

“I thought you had her tranqed and bound?” Alex asks, breaking ice from ice trays into a bag. She throws one at Owen. He doesn’t even catch it, just picks it up from the ground.

“She’s good,” Nikita says, hissing. “Better than Division.”

“Hold up,” Alex physically holds her hands up. “You saying she’s better than you?”

Nikita glares at Alex, one reserved for the likes of Percy.

“Sorry.” Alex ducks her head. “But really, she got the drop on both of you?”

“She’s fast,” Owen says. “Faster than when I was on the regimen.”

“The what?”

Nikita waves her free hand dismissively. “Pills that made him stronger, faster, etcetera. He’s off them now.”

“Okay, so she escaped,” Alex says. “And is probably telling her overlord masters just where we are…why aren’t we leaving?”

“Oh believe me, I want her to come back,” Nikita says, eyes alight with vengeance.

She gets her wish, in the form of a bullet.

Nikita falls to the ground, hit in the neck.

“Nikita!” Alex and Owen scream, diving for cover.

It’s too late.

Owen gets one in the thigh.

Alex is the only one left. She breathes rapidly, not even peeking her head out from behind the desk. “Nikita? Owen?” she says. No reply. “Shit fuck,” Alex hisses under her breath. A glint of light blinds her from across the window. Sniper.

The window cracks, a bullet lodging in her chest.

It’s less painful than she thought it would be, getting shot.


End file.
